


Bed Time

by Just_Call_Me_Floss



Series: Mansion Shenanigans [8]
Category: X-Men - All Media Types
Genre: Fluff, X-Men: First Class (2011), tooth rooting fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-30
Updated: 2018-07-30
Packaged: 2019-06-18 17:53:28
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 882
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15491406
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Just_Call_Me_Floss/pseuds/Just_Call_Me_Floss
Summary: They hardly spent any time laying still next to each other, and usually with a lot less clothing, yet the few inches between them seemed too little. It was unusual being able to feel the heat of the other through the closeness that they were next to each other, yet neither of them moved closer or further away.Charles suited the headboard, seeming to be part of the painstaking artwork. Must be his curls, Erik decided, as they were incredibly delicate, seemed to be painted by the gods themselves, swept to the side with such acruratcry. His lips also, small but well built, just the right shade of sin red, well balanced by the optimistic blue reflected in his eyes.





	Bed Time

**Author's Note:**

> Something a bit softer. 
> 
> I will be going back to the more humorous prompts, as they seem to be the most popular!

Although they  _ slept  _ together, they never really slept together. Erik/Charles would always retreat back to their designated sleeping quarters. It wasn’t really out of want, but more necessity. It drew a line at what they were. They were definitely not  _ boyfriends _ , rather, they referred to themselves as fuckbuddies. Only a couple would spend the entirety of their time together. But when Banshee shattered Charles’ window, Erik naturally offered up his own bed. It was just around the corner, and a familiar bed would be much more relaxing to stay in rather than one of the many dusty, locked up spare rooms. Charles shrugged and accepted the offer without a second thought.

 

It was when it actually came to the night that they realised the problem. Charles sat, already dressed for the night, and watched as Erik stripped, ready to change. He gulped and averted his eyes, instead focusing on his cuticles. Very interesting. Very very interesting. Suddenly, having the ability of seeing his partner undressed in a non-sexual way seemed intimidating. Charles had never really had a steady romantic relationship, even in Oxford or his very brief time in Israel, and although he had quite a few sexual relations, none had lasted longer than a few months. Erik was easily becoming his longest and steadiest partner. But the thought of emotional intimacy with anyone scared him. 

 

When he felt the bed dip behind him, Charles looked up from his fingernails and glanced over his shoulder. Erik had his back to him, legs still over the edge of the mattress, and Charles took an appreciative glance at the metal manipulators lean back. He had scars littering over his body, some deeper than others, but to Charles, these made him that bit more interesting. Of course, Charles could just take a look and find the reasoning behind the thin white lines, but he’d never break the unspoken rule. 

 

Erik stretched his shoulders before shuffling back, swinging muscled legs up onto the bed. Laying on his back, hands linked over his abdomen, he glanced up at Charles, who was still sitting crossed legged, back pressed to the solid wood headboard. The engravings in the dark material were extensive and very over the top, and it probably took months to finish, but Erik found it too much, used to the simpler style which came with motels and imprisonment. Unusually, Charles suited the headboard, seeming to be part of the painstaking artwork. Must be his curls, Erik decided, as they were incredibly delicate, seemed to be painted by the gods themselves, swept to the side with such acruratcry. His lips also, small but well built, just the right shade of sin red, well balanced by the optimistic blue reflected in his eyes. 

 

Charles raised a delicate eyebrow, holding eye contact with Erik. Charles couldn’t really hear someone’s thoughts unless he went looking (or that they seeked him out/thought very loudly), and instead tended to have the emotions casted off of the other. Erik was currently content. “Alright, my friend?” The telepath asked, and watched the crinkle form between Erik’s eyebrows, a telltale sign that he was caught when in deep thought. Erik blinked up at him, getting rid of the misty look.

 

“Tired, ‘tis all.” As if to emphasize his point, Erik stretched once again, entire body going tense, back arching and eyes closed tightly, shrudding for a few moments before letting out a long sigh. In one swift moment, Erik managed to get himself under his tightly pulled and prestinley made sheets, arms tight by his side as he remained on his back. Again, his gaze returned to Charles, both eyebrows raised, as he glanced between the telepath and the sheet he was currently not under. 

 

Unlike the German, Charles hadn’t developed the skill of getting into bed without actually having to move the sheets, so instead stood and pulled the sheet back enough to wiggle his slim body into the bed. 

 

Now as they lay side by side in bed, they both realised how awkward it really was. They hardly spent any time laying still next to each other, and usually with a lot less clothing, yet the few inches between them seemed too little. It was unusual being able to feel the heat of the other through the closeness that they were next to each other, yet neither of them moved closer or further away.

 

Erik twitched his finger, and much to both of their glees, the lamps on either side of the bed switched off obediently. “Very good,” Charles grinned. Erik had been gaining a much better gentler control of his powers, not having being used to using it in a domestic setting. So being able to turn off both lamps simultaneously without anything crumpling/shattering/obliterating was a good step forward.

 

“Good night Charles,” Erik whispered after a few silent beats.

 

“Good night Erik,” Charles answered a few minutes later.

* * *

 

Neither mentioned the tangled limbs of the morning, how they were curled naturally towards one another, clutching hands and overlapped legs. The once tight blankets had been kicked away and were tumbling over the end of the bed, only the slither of feet protected from the cool morning air.

 

Neither mentioned how they began to make it a once-weekly tradition. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to those who comment/like/bookmark these stories, it really means alot to me and motivates me to write more again. If you have any OTP Prompts you'd like me to attempt, please feel free to leave them in the comments below, or even come on over to my tumblr (itspenisparker) and leave me a message!


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